


An Exercise in Patience

by cocaptainrodimus (wellisntthatshiny)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Deep Throating, M/M, Other, Spitroasting, mild bondage, mild suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellisntthatshiny/pseuds/cocaptainrodimus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron chains Rodimus up on the bridge and Rodimus services other mechs with his mouth while Megatron watches. If Rodimus can last the entire session without asking Megatron to frag him, Megatron has promised a reward. If he doesn’t make it the entire time, the session ends and Rodimus has to deal with his charge himself. The last mech of the session, much to Rodimus’ surprise, is Ultra Magnus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exercise in Patience

Rodimus raised his helm at the sound of approaching footsteps, glossa flicking out to lick at his lips as his optics lit up in a futile attempt to see who was coming towards him. The blindfold Megatron had carefully placed around his helm did its job well and he couldn’t even make out the shadow of whoever was walking his way. He shifted his weight in anticipation and felt the tug of his arms pulling at the chains that held them high over his head, just loose enough that they weren’t strained from his position kneeling on the bridge. Rodimus heard a chuckle behind him before Megatron called over.

‘Eager, aren’t you?”

‘Yessir.’ Static laced Rodimus’ voice as his overworked vocalizer spat out the words.

‘Even after two hours,’ Megatron responded with a note of disbelief ‘and with the fluids of eleven different mechs coating your frame.’

Rodimus grinned and bobbed his helm, still trying to discern whose footsteps he had heard. The mech stopped mere feet from him and Megatron’s description of ‘eager’ didn’t begin to cover his feelings if he was right about who he was to service next. He shifted once more, the chains rattling as he pulled at them. The movement had lubricant leaking from behind his closed panel and dripping down in shining rivulets to join the puddle beneath his knees

The mech in front of him invented deeply and a few determined steps brought the frame close enough that it was just barely too far for Rodimus to touch. Even without his vision Rodimus could sense how much the larger frame loomed over his and the sharp scent of regulation cleaning solution confirmed Rodimus’ suspicions of the identity of the latest mech to join in on the session Megatron had been supervising since the end of their shift. Rodimus whined, wanting to touch the other mech, wanting to touch Magnus, still in disbelief that his second in command would join in on something so public.

Ultra Magnus’ hand came up to gently cup the side of Rodimus’ helm and he immediately leaned into the touch, arms straining behind him one more as he tried to get closer. Oral lubricants were already gathering in his mouth at the thought of sucking Magnus off while he was on his knees on the bridge with Megatron watching from the unofficial Captain’s Chair.

Magnus pulled back his hand and Rodimus let out a whine, pulling forward again instinctively to try to follow.

‘Patience, Rodimus. After all, isn’t that what this is about?’

‘In theory,’ Megatron’s response to the rhetorical question was unexpected, and Rodimus heard Magnus’ frame tense and shift suddenly at the reminder that the other captain was in the room. A moment of silence passed and Rodimus couldn’t help but wonder what was going on between the two mechs and cursed the blindfold. 

Whatever the two were figuring out, they seemed to have gotten it because Magnus took a step forward placing his frame well within Rodimus’ reach. The mysterious silence was pushed to the back of his mind as Rodimus leaned in, nuzzling at Magnus’ frame to get an idea of where exactly he was before licking broad stripes over the transformation seams in Magnus’ legs that he could reach, an unhappy noise escaping his vocalizer as he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to reach Magnus’ spike from his current position. 

Magnus, however, seemed entirely unworried as his field mingled with Rodimus’ in a wash of pleasure strong enough to indicate that he was nearly as eager as Rodimus himself. Rodimus let his own interest make itself known, delighting in the way Magnus’ frame tensed under him as the emotion hit. Magnus’ hand returned to the back of Rodimus’ helm and Rodimus couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of being pressed against Magnus, taking the pressure of the massive fingers on his helm as a signal to dig deeper into the seams beneath his lips.

His glossa licked at cables and wiring beneath the thick plating, teasing attention that wandered up and down Magnus’ seams. Rodimus let himself jump from seam to seam, first on the right leg and then the left, never letting Magnus guess where he was going to go next as he familiarized himself with the frame in front of him and created a mental map of each place that made Magnus tense up or sigh.

Rodimus was so engrossed in his self-assigned mission to create a map of Ultra Magnus’ favorite spots that he didn’t even notice Megatron approaching until the mech’s field flickered into resonance with Magnus’ and his own.

‘Need a little help?’ he asked quietly.

Rodimus pulled back from Magnus, confused at the question, before Megatron helped him shift to his feet, taking all of Rodimus’ weight when his legs proved too shaky to hold him. Ultra Magnus reached out to grab him, taking hold of Rodimus’ frame as Megatron sank to the ground before guiding Rodimus back down, this time straddling Megatron’s lap with his spoiler pressed against the larger mech’s chest.

Rodimus’ entire frame shuddered when he felt how hot Megatron’s frame was running, his own cooling fans having kicked on in the first twenty minutes of the session. Lubricant dripped from behind his valve panel and Megatron ground up against him when the slick fluid hit his frame.. Rodimus gasped and bit his glossa to stop himself from begging Megatron to frag him. If he got through the entire session, Megatron would. If not, the session would end and Rodimus would have to go to the wash racks and deal with his heated frame himself. A lesson in patience, Megatron had said. Rodimus thought it was more like torture.

He was taken out of his thoughts as a finger touched his mouth, brushing over his lips before Rodimus sucked it in and gave it the same treatment he had Magnus’ transformation seams. The mech in front of him let out a shaky moan -it was Magnus’ hand then- and Rodimus sucked the finger hard, bobbing his head as much as he was able with his restraints before returning to teasing each joint with his glossa and lips. Magnus slipped a second finger into his intake and Rodimus welcomed it, swallowing over both fingers which added up to nearly the girth of a smaller mech’s spike.

After a few moments Magnus pulled his hand away and Rodimus heard the soft whirring of a modesty panel transforming out of place and the click and hiss of a spike beginning to pressurize. Rodimus opened his intake as wide as it would go, ignoring the ache in his jaw in favor of the feeling of the tip of Magnus’ spike against his lips.

Rodimus flicked his glossa out, lapping away the single bead of transfluid that had welled there before taking the half-pressurized spike into his intake. It was a bit of a stretch already at this size, and Rodimus half hoped that the spike wouldn’t pressurize too much more, even as he moaned at the feeling of it hardening further in his mouth. 

Magnus groaned as Rodimus sealed his lips around the spike and began to bob up and down, relying on Megatron’s hands on his hips so the movement wouldn’t have him falling from his co-captain’s lap. Rodimus let his optics dim once more, no longer fighting the blindfold as he focused in on his task, licking and sucking at the spike in his mouth, revelling in the taste of Ultra Magnus’ transfluid on his glossa. He wished, absently, that his arms were untied so he could play with the folds of Magnus’ valve and his anterior node while his mouth was busy, his fingers dripping with Magnus’ lubricant as the larger mech’s valve cycled down around him.

Rodimus was brought back to the present by Megatron’s fingers digging into the seams at his hips, playing with the wires he could reach with his oversized fingers and after tweaking hard at a particularly sensitive wire shifting to rub at Rodimus’ heated modesty panel. Rodimus moaned with Magnus’ spike still in his mouth, getting an echoed response from him at the vibration. Rodimus mentally cheered, and revved his engine replicating the vibration effect and getting another groan from Magnus.

Not to be outdone, Megatron pinned Rodimus to his own frame with one hand and brought the other from the center of his modesty panel to tease at the transformation seams that surrounded it. Rodimus nearly choked as Megatron teased the wires there, and had to pull off Magnus’ spike for a moment and let his vents try to take in air, heated as it was by their frames. Megatron smirked, Rodimus didn’t need to see to know that, and gently pushed Rodimus’ helm back towards Magnus’ spike. He waited until Rodimus had taken nearly half of the considerable length back into his mouth before moving his hand from Rodimus’ helm back to the center of his modesty panel, tapping twice.

Rodimus froze, indecision and confusion warring with pleasure in his field at the command to open up in the middle of a session where he had been explicitly told to keep his panels closed.

‘It’s okay, pet, open up for me,’ Megatron soothed, his hand stroking at Rodimus’ heated panel in reassuring circles. ‘You’ve been very good and you’ve earned a reward. I want you to keep taking Ultra Magnus’ spike, as much of it as you can. Ping me if it’s too much and you need a break. Otherwise I want you to continue until you swallow his entire spike. Understood?’

Rodimus sent back a confirmation ping, the most he could manage with his mouth full and let his panels transform out of the way. A rush of lubricant poured over Megatron’s lap, the violet liquid trickling down Rodimus’ legs and pedes as his spike pressurized so quickly that it nearly hurt. Rodimus’ entire frame shook with relief and he felt optic fluid well under the blindfold in response to the sudden release.

Magnus stroked the back of Rodimus’ helm once more, replacing Megatron’s guiding hand with his own as a gentle reminder of Rodimus’ task. Rodimus pressed forward, moving slowly on Magnus’ spike until it hit the back of his intake, trying not to shake as Megatron’s hand dipped further down to slick his fingers with the lubricant from Rodimus’ valve. Rodimus paused, trying to gather himself enough to encourage his throat cabling to open up, wanting desperately to do as Megatron asked and take Magnus’ entire spike.

Rodimus tried to move further again, throat sending warning pings to him and trying to close down around the spike. He choked, pulling back slightly and sending a ping to Megatron to tell him he was okay to continue. Magnus rubbed at the back of his helm, and sent a wave of reassurance through his field.

‘How about a bit of encouragement, pet. I’m going to pressurize right into your pretty valve and keep you like that until you either take all of Magnus spike, or he overloads. If you can take his entire spike, I’ll frag you while you suck his spike. If not, you have to bring him to overload before I let you move. Either way, you do not overload without permission. Deal?’

Rodimus moaned around Magnus’ spike and pushed his eager field towards Megatron, even glyphs too hard to manage right now.

‘Stay where you are until I’m fully inside of you’ Megatron said, fingers stroking soothing patterns over Rodimus hips. 

Megatron’s modesty panels whirred aside and Rodimus felt the tip of his spike against his valve before Megatron reached a hand down to guide it inside, the pressure enough to push his spike inside. Rodimus felt more optic fluid well up under the blindfold, some of it trickling down his face at the feeling of his valve calipers being stretched and nodes being lit up after waiting for so long. His frame burned like it was on fire and the air filtering in through his vents felt as hot as the air he was cycling back out. After a few moments, Rodimus felt Megatron pull him back ever so slightly, seating Rodimus firmly on his spike. Rodimus’ valve cycled down, desperately trying to get Megatron to move, to give him any further stimulation, but despite his spike twitching and his fans kicking up to their highest setting, Megatron didn’t acknowledge the movement.

Megatron’s hands came back to settle on Rodimus’ hips, stroking calm patterns over his plating as Rodimus overrode the warnings coming from his intake and opened up enough that the tip of Magnus’ spike could breach his throat. The cabling flexed, visible Rodimus was sure, to Magnus as his spike slowly slid further into Rodimus’ throat. Rodimus swallowed around him, ignoring yet more pings for what felt like an eternity of his throat trying to close around Magnus and his valve trying to cycle down on Megatron. Finally, Rodimus felt his lips press against Ultra Magnus’ plating, spike so far down his throat he couldn’t move from the position if he wanted to. 

Magnus groaned at the touch of Rodimus’ lips to his plating, taking in the sight of Rodimus entirely fixed in place between his spike and Megatron’s, throat cabling bulging ever so slightly where Magnus’ spike filled him. Magnus’ fingers dug harder into Rodimus’ helm and he moaned, the sound barely getting out of his vocalizer to vibrate around Magnus’ spike. Rodimus felt his throat make a last effort at closing down around Magnus’ spike before relaxing just enough to allow the mech to begin to move, some unseen signal passing between him and Megatron as they took up a rhythm.

Rodimus let his frame take over as the two mechs passed him back and forth, Megatron’s spike filling his valve lighting up each node as he pressed in and dragged out alternating with the slide of Magnus’ spike down his throat, filling him even fuller so he couldn’t escape. Rodimus felt little whimpers and moans slide out of his vocalizer, static spitting with them in a way that Magnus seemed to love, the hand on Rodimus’ head digging in and words of praise and Primus falling from Magnus’ lips. Megatron’s hands focused on lifting Rodimus off and back onto his spike over and over, a firm presence grounding Rodimus between the slide of the spikes in his throat and valve.

Megatron gripped tighter, holding Rodimus nearly in place as he pushed up harder and faster into Rodimus’ valve. Their fields pushed and pulled at each other as they neared overload, Megatron’s bright and sharp against Rodimus’ hazy bliss and Ultra Magnus a nearly unwavering frequency of intent and pleasure. Rodimus felt his frame’s temperature climb higher and higher as static began to crackle along his frame and jump towards Megatron and Ultra Magnus. He tried desperately to keep overload at bay, not wanting to disobey Megatron’s command and finish before either of them did. 

It was the static that finished them off, charge racing from Rodimus’ frame to Ultra Magnus’ that had him overloading hard down Rodimus’ throat, holding Rodi’s helm flush against his hip plating as the smaller mech struggled to swallow all the transfluid. Magnus’ overload had Megatron tipping over as well, spike pulsing as Rodimus felt his valve fill with hot transfluid that had him shaking and trying to focus on swallowing Magnus’ transfluid to keep his own overload at bay. Megatron continued to pump into him, spike feeling even bigger with the transfluid in his valve and lighting up even deeper nodes..

At Megatron’s static laced command of ‘Overload for us, Rodimus,’ Rodimus let the built up heat in his frame wash over him, sharply aware of Megatron’s hand on his spike, pulling every drop of transfluid from his reserves as his vocalizer spit more static around Ultra Magnus’ spike.

Megatron pulled out of Rodimus just long enough for his valve to cycle down on nothing, frame screaming at the loss before pushing back in, overload hitting him again as his sensors were forced back apart before his first overload had even finished, waves of heat and pleasure rolling over him as he desperately tried to push back against Megatron’s firm hold.

 

Rodimus shook as his frame came down from the dual overload, Megatron’s hands stroking down his chest and torso in soothing patterns as Magnus held his helm still and pulled out. Rodimus whimpered at the loss, suddenly aware of just how badly his jaw ached, and leaned back into Megatron’s embrace, nuzzling back against the mech as much as he could with his hands still bound.

Megatron held him there for a few more moments, whispering praise and continuing to stroke Rodimus’ frame, the soothing strokes producing small shivers at each new point of contact before leaning in to speak gently to him

‘Rodimus, I need to undo your arms. Are you okay to move?’

Rodimus nodded, speech still outside the limits of his post-overload capabilities. He whined again when he felt Ultra Magnus take him from Megatron’s arms, lifting him off the depressurized spike and holding him up, as Megatron stood up to remove the chains holding his arms in place. Rodimus felt Megatron catch his arms, making sure they didn’t fall as the bonds were removed, slowly lowering them after inspecting Rodimus’ shoulders and wrists to make sure there wasn’t any visible damage.

Rodimus shifted in Magnus’ grip as energon rushed back into his arms, tingling but not hurting. He rolled his shoulders, even that minimal action taking more effort than he felt it reasonably should, and decided that the lack of stabbing pain meant that any stiffness was fine to sleep on since all he could really think about was curling up on a nice warm berth.

‘Rodimus, you can’t sleep just yet, pet. Are your shoulders okay? Any pain?’

‘Just a little stiff’ Rodimus slurred, nuzzling forward towards Magnus in the hopes that the mech would let him cuddle, even just for a moment. His hopes were rewarded when Magnus pulled him in closer, supporting Rodimus’ frame against his own and wrapping an arm around him.

‘I’m going to take off the blindfold now; is that okay?’

‘Yea’ 

Rodimus’ optics flickered back to life, this time without a barrier and he grinned back at the smile on Megatron’s face.

‘Hey there, handsome’ Rodimus said, static taking out most of the gusto behind his words and his hands not quite reacting to his request for finger guns.

‘He’s fine,’ Ultra Magnus said, warmth and satisfaction in his field. Rodimus sent back a pulse of affection before looking down at his frame.

‘I’m filthy,’ he said, pleased at first before he remembered who he was pressed up against. ‘I’m getting you filthy,’ he said with a hint of panic in his voice.

‘I think you’ve more than made up for that,’ Magnus murmured. ‘I’ll wash up with you.’ He paused for a moment, realizing the presumption in his words. ‘That is, I mean, if you’re not opposed?’

‘I dunno; depends.’ Rodimus said, only half joking. ‘Was this a one time thing or are you gonna stick around? I don’t let just anyone help me wash up.’

‘Megatron and I had discussed, if you are in agreement, that I might spend a bit more time with you both. He indicated that you had been interested in the idea when he brought it up with you a few weeks ago.’

Rodimus froze for a moment in disbelief before locking optics with Megatron. ‘Best. Dom. Ever,’ he said as a grin broke across his face. He turned to look up at Magnus ‘Does this mean I get to kiss you whenever I want now? Because I want to kiss you alarmingly often. I mean really it’s a truly unbelievable amount of time that I spend thinking about kissing you’

Magnus smiled, a lopsided, almost goofy expression that somehow suited his stern face.. ‘Any time we aren’t on duty, I suppose, though I’d prefer if you kept the public displays to a minimum.’

‘What about kissing you goodbye when we go to shift? Does that count as on duty? Off duty?’

‘I think,’ Megatron interrupted with a soft smile, ‘that these are details we can work out after we get the two of you washed up.’


End file.
